Ep1 – “Run Run Fast As You Can” – Closed

Jetfire leapt to his feet, the explosions shaking him out of a shut down sequence. He’d barely been allowed on board, and suddenly, chaos. Metal screeched as he pulled himself upright, his knees quivering as he stood. Barely out of stasis for Primus knew how long, in what only Primus knew how cold, he needed time to recuperate, scrapit! (Jetfire knew both of these figures to at least the third decimal point, but even he knew that numbers meant nothing when complaining was involved.) He moaned, transforming a hand into a proper tool to wind at his knees. He slammed it into his left and cranked a couple times before staggering off into the corridor, muttering to himself.

Jetfire thought of calling out to his comrades, but he realized he didn’t know any of the names. He felt strangely alone, and not at least a little too old.

The rickety con stumbled into a wall as another explosion truck the ship. Some of his sensors were still on the fritz after the long exposure to the ice, but he still had enough to tell that there was something seriously wrong with the vessel. He grated his voicebox irritably, wondering where the maintenance bots were and why weren’t they solving this kliks ago. Why weren’t they fixing him kliks ago? What sort of army was Megatronus leading? He’d expected a Decepticon fleet to be crawling all over the ship with all the greatness he boasted. Jetfire had yet to even see another soul after being admitted in by a few peon-

Oh there’s one. “YOU,”[/b] he barked, his voicebox clicking with age and exposure. He didn’t remember many ‘cons with coloring like that. Especially scout class. The scout idea was an assumption, but his size and build screamed of it. The yellow was a little counterproductive though. Perhaps it was some new-fangled tactic they’d been developing… or perhaps this poor spark had been doomed to be an ill-concieved experiment in terrible camoflauge.

Regardless, now was not the time to judge. Yellowbot was practically fainting with fright over there. Jetfire wasn’t entirely surprised- that wall behind the scout had nearly collapsed in on him. Despite this, he had stopped moving. Jetfire pounded on the wall next to him, signaling at the scout. “OI!” He roared, in the best no-nonsense tone he could manage. “If you want to keep your spark alight you GET OVER HERE NOW.” He looked around, gauging and estimating stability. Things didn’t look good and he waved his arms to keep balance as another explosion wracked the ship, and the distant thunder of creaking metal could be heard. “Primus’s name is going on here?” he asked, partially to himself. He quickly looked back at the poor excuse for a spy in front of him, calculating how many nano-kliks he had before Jetfire had to get over there and shove the kid’s sorry tank out of there.

Jetfire’s face fell. He took a full klick away from scanning the hallways and stress points to look Yellowbot full in the face with growing concern.

“What?” he said flatly. He’d heard Basic before- of course. Any bot could use it, but this was wildly different than anything he’d ever heard. To affirm that the scout was speaking at all, Jetfire at least recognized some words- specifically ‘Vehicon’ and ‘dead’. Had he been damaged in the collapse? It seemed unlikely- he looked to be in perfect shape. Perhaps Yellowbot’s processor simply wasn’t exactly top of the line. That would explain the cruel joke of a paintjob. Jetfire flicked on sensors, going for a quick scan of his new companion, but was interrupted by the chaos.

Staggering, he came back to his senses and returned to his surroundings, his optic HUD filling with calculations and escape suggestions. The percentages for accuracy were all pretty low- he didn’t have a schematic or map of the ship- he couldn’t be sure of anything. Still, there was little he could do about that.

The roar of bending metal started above him. Alters flashed and percentages all changed, screaming danger. “Quickly!” the con grunted businesslike, leaping forward and pushing Yellowbot into motion with him, heading down the left side corridor. Jetfire was almost twice Yellowbot’s size, but he seemed to keep up pretty quickly despite his shorter strides.

Still, Jetfire had taken only about two of his own before his hydraulics gave in, and he stumbled to the ground, raising an arm to clamp a hand on the scout’s shoulder for support. Primus curse cold. He could barely move for the damage the ice had done to him. It was a wonder he could stand at all. He leaned heavily on Yellowbot, the vents in his sides wheezing as he shuddered to stand. ‘Cron’s cogs. This was a bad way. They’d be buried alive in their own ship at this rate. His head swiveled as he recalculated survival probabilities, wishing desperately he knew the structure better. He grunted, feeling pity for the smaller bot under him, “Do you have a map, scout? I can’t find the safest route without a map.”


OOC: Took some liberties- I’m going to say that Basic has evolved a lot. Jetfire can only hear ringtones out of Bee. Honestly, I’m a terrible person and I do this for comedic effect.

Also did a little powerplaying with Bumblebee- hope that’s allright, just assumed running would happen if he’d be bodily shoved into action.

He’ll notice the Autobot symbols eventually, I promise. ; P

After a klik- after being sure Yellowbot wouldn’t drop him- Jetfire set to work clanking at his knees again. His support chirruped at him again, this time the meaning going completely over Jetfire’s head.

He paused, swiveling around to look at Yellowbot out of the corner of his optic. “Map,” he grunted again. “Map.” He growled, speaker noise accenting his frustration. He pulled up a topographic hologram of some ravine on Cybertron as an example. “MAP,” he repeated, louder. The ground under them shuddered and he set to work on his joints again, muttering to himself.

“Of course I find the weakest processor on board. Gone for some vorn and the standards go to hell. Recruits like these, what is Megatronus thinking…” He spoke up, “Structure is safer that way. We’ll go, but give me a klik.” His joints groaned, and he suspected rust in some areas. Primus below, he couldn’t get out of stasis just to go back again. There was another explosion much closer now, and Jetfire staggered forward, reaching out and gripping the scout for dear life. He was only just saved from falling completely. He moaned, joints creaking. “All right,” and he leapt up again, ignoring the deafening screech his knee made as he swung it forward. His altmode would have been easier to move in- at least it had wheels- but the clearance wasn’t wide enough. He was dubious about his ability to fly as well, but it would be a better choice than to wait around in this hulking disaster. If only to find a way out. Or at least another comrade, one at least with the sense Primus gave a scrapling.

This time, Jetfire at least caught the word 'bad' as the scout frantically pointed in the opposite direction. He harrumphed and shouted at his leaning support, "Your ruddy Basic is noise and pixels. Speak clearly." Still, he allowed himself to be led in the opposite direction. He questioned Yellowbot's judgment, but having just arrived, anyone knew the vessel better than he did. Still, he was daily sure the scout couldn't see the terrible probabilities he was seeing in the structure around them. Still with a hand on the scout's shoulder, Jetfire managed to take several calculated strides, the going becoming steadier as he gained momentum.

They managed the end of that hallway before his right leg locked up again. He swore loudly, pushing off his companion and leaning on the wall... Right next to a control panel.

"Aaah," he hummed to himself, feeling in control again. He could download a map here and with it could calculate the structural stability of the ship to almost perfect figures. Perhaps get some intel on what Primus' name was happening while he was at it.

He clicked away at the panel, at first only succeeding in opening the door adjacent to it with an alarming whooshing noise. A quick glance showed nothing of interest, only a dead end and Vehicon replacement parts. At this point, he had a hang of the new-fangled thing and sought out his data. He winced as steam sprayed in his face, his optics darting to find the right commands. “Hmm,” he raised a finger and executed the download request.

With an almighty clunk the lights turned red and a siren started to blare. An automated voice spoke over the din. “Intruder alert. Your position has been noted. Surrender immediately. Intruder alert. Your position has been noted. Surrender immediately. Intruder alert…”

Jetfire grunted. Well, he supposed he should have seen that coming. He’d barely been on the ship, there was no way he would have security clearance to any sort of Decepticon data. He shrugged, leaning forward to deal with his locked joint. “At least someone will know we’re here,” he grumbled, flapping a hand at the intercom as it insisted that they surrender.

OOC: I was going to have him notice Bumblebee’s Autobot symbol around here, but thought you might like to have him freak out first. ; P

Yellowbot had suddenly become more lively- beginning to spout his garbled Basic with a ferocity he hadn’t had before. Most of his frustrations went over Jetfire’s processors yet again, and served only to make him more irritable. He let off some exhaust, the gesture becoming an exasperated sigh as he watched the bot panic.

Like watching a vaudeville, the scout skidded to a halt and wheeled in the other direction, chittering as he went. This time, the con caught ‘get out’, and he rolled his optics, vocabulator grating irritably. “Yes, that’s what we’ve been trying- where are you-?” The scout was of on his way, back the way they came… right… into…

His HUD flashed red. Probabilities screamed at him. “W- wai-! STOP.” The scout was running straight into a low stability zone. The ship rocked uneasily and the support above his head bent alarmingly. Without even an astro-klik to think, Jetfire brought out his blaster and aimed at the ground just ahead of his fleeing companion, firing as he brought it out.

He hoped Yellowbot had hesitated. The ceiling caved in with an almighty crash, and Jetfire himself had to take a few steps backward for the slowly caving ceiling. Dust and debris clouded his vision- he couldn’t see the scout… or what remained of him, and he was afraid to pull up his other sensors to find out for sure.

There was a strange klik of silence over the ship, at least silent under the persistent chant of “Intruder alert. Your position has been noted…”

Jetfire clenched his optics shut for a moment, sighing deeply again. “No time to wait for them, then.” He limped forward to find whatever was left of the scout.

OOC: If we want to move this along, maybe the cave in made its own ‘airlock’…? : P

“Software for structure stability estimates? No! I’ll just GUESS. Estimation equals death. Does he know how often a third decimal point has saved my sorry aft? ‘Course not!” Jetfire grunted as he strained against the support beam that had nearly impaled the scout. It only budged. He stood back a moment to examine the wreckage, giving it a quick but thorough laser scan before yanking at another piece of debris with less resistance. Exhausting heavily, he wrenched a piece aside, and he finally heard some vocal feedback from the scout. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over him. He set to work again, muttering to mask the sentiment. It was several kliks before he’d revealed Yellowbot, looking much worse for wear than before, but at least his spark was functional.

Jetfire grunted at him as he struggled to get upright. “’Cron’s cogs, scout! How are two broken bots supposed to get off a dying ship? ‘in Primus’s name are you thinking?”

Yellowbot’s awful Basic had an even more broken tone to it this time. But yet again, at least Jetfire could understand ‘go/get out’. There was the added bonus of ‘hangar’… at least someone knew where it was. He harrumphed loudly, and pulled the scout harshly to his feet. The sirens above them were damaged, and the alarm’s chanting was broken and slow. “No use waiting for them” he said, annoyed. “They’re probably too busy to help an old man.” Something grated behind his vocabulator, an annoyed sound of contempt. “No time to wait, we’re going.” The large bot had been speaking without looking at the scout, focusing on the structures and probabilities associated with them. Ironically, the cave in had made a temporary safe zone- debris clogging the wall, and also leaving just enough space to go back the way they came. Jetfire shoved the scout through, ignoring protests as he went. The bot was damaged, but there was no time for that now. They had to run. The con clambered through as well, doing his best to ignore the pains and work through his locking joints.

It seemed to be many vorn before they were through. The roles were reversed as Jetfire practically dragged the scout behind him, pausing here and there to rest against a creaking wall. The damage Yellowbot had sustained didn’t make him any easier to understand, but Jetfire followed the passageways he was intent on… with the exception of one that had a very grim probability to it. They heard it collapse behind them as they fled down a different one.

It took a lot of swearing and grumbling, but another right turn and there. It was deserted. Of course it was! Jetfire rattled, annoyed at the predicaments. They’d all be escaping from the larger hangars, probably. This was the smaller hangar- the airlock didn’t have a large enough clearance for Jetfire’s altmode to clear- he’d have to leap and transform in midair.

Well, may as well meet them on the other side. He righted Yellowbot, placing him firmly on his pedes. It was hard not to lean on him, but Jetfire did his best, still gripping him firmly by his ridiculous wing structures. He slammed his other fist on the airlock release.

The rumbling of the hangar exploded with the sound of rushing air. The ship wasn’t moving fast enough to warrant a vaccum, but the din was enough of a shock after what they’d been through. Jetfire looked at the open airlock warily. He brought up his systems status in his optic HUD, which assured him that his ability to transform was efficient enough (not at maximum, but what part of him was at maximum efficiency these days?) to initiate… but he had his doubts. Still, better to take the risks in the open air than in his dying hulk.

Well… fembots and children first. Jetfire gave Yellowbot a little shove, nodding his head at the escape. Jetfire would have been more intrigued about the scout’s altmode in a different situation. All the builds he’d seen as of late were absurd, he couldn’t make head or tail of any of them. He wondered dully how those wings fit to form anything aerodynamic at all.

Beyond all rational probability, the scout was resisting. Jetfire caught the word ‘fly’ several times. “Fly yes,fly.” The con frowned at him disapprovingly. ”Escape,” he emphasized.

“Go! I’ll follow,” he said gruffly, the static in his voice grating urgency. The scout refused to get any closer to the airlock. Perhaps his T-Cog was damaged in the cave in? It seemed… improbable… besides, if he failed to transform, Jetfire himself was definitely big enough to carry him to a safe landing. Jetfire paused, reconsidering his options, and attempted his own Basic in an effort to get the scout to understand. “Clearance too small/I’m too big. Go and I follow. Damage report? I help if you can’t alt.” His Basic was on a completely different wavelength than Yellowbot’s, beeps and chirp-whirrs replaced with clicking code and rattling speaker feedback. He prattled on at him for a moment, now really feeling the age difference… he was fairly sure the scout wouldn’t catch a word of his outdated- oh.

That was it. The scout’s new Basic was… too new. It may as well have been a different language. This was the sort of thing Basic was trying to surpass- language barriers- and even Jetfire was too far behind to keep up with what used to be a universal language. The shock of it hit him hard, and for a nano-klik, his irritation turned to sadness. He might have known the exact amount of vorn he’d been locked in stasis… but the reality of it hadn’t hit him quite like that moment…

He was brought back to reality by a nearby explosion and the sudden tilting of the warship. Jetfire leaned forward against the incline, snorting exhaust irritably and shaking the emotion away. “Now’s not the time to-“ Jetfire growled, interrupting himself and lifting the scout off the ground entirely, to renewed panic and protests. The scout’s flailing managed to make a strong hit against Jetfire’s own chassis, and he snarled. “HEY, that is not how you-“ Jetfire almost dropped him for his renewed struggling.

The old con quickly had enough of the scout’s flailing and he grunted, giving him a good shake. “NOW YOU LISTEN,” he roared authoritatively, holding him full in front of him.